


How Did It End Up Like This

by magicandarchery



Series: All The Little Moments [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Immortality, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 01:53:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14582352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicandarchery/pseuds/magicandarchery
Summary: Alec can’t stand the idea of leaving Magnus to bear the burden of loneliness.Magnus can’t bear the thought of being left behind once more.Both fear the day this love they share will be reduced to nothing more than mementos in a box, hoping those mementos help to keep a memory alive.A canon-divergent coda to episode 3x06





	How Did It End Up Like This

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is two weeks late, but there’s never perfect timing on anything. *insert shrug emoji here*
> 
> Big, big, big thanks to Ketz for her help navigating this show’s completely ridiculous timeline. Who is in favor of a time jump between seasons 3 and 4?

His steps are steadier now. The cab ride has dulled the throbbing of alcohol in his veins, and understandably so. Alec had changed his mind at the last minute, quite literally a block away from the Institute, when he had asked his driver to take him to Magnus’ instead. It’s home, even if only unofficially. The loft is dark as he enters, except for the moonlight streaming in through the doors leading to the balcony, and he realizes Magnus still isn’t home from his appointment. Alec shrugs off his jacket as the door clicks shut behind him, hangs it on the coat rack, and kicks off his boots. He doesn’t think he’s ever realized just how mundane this routine is until this moment.

Alec’s head is pulsing steadily and even as he slogs his way toward the bedroom, each step slow and deliberate so as not to make the throbbing worse, his eyes want to close, to give in to the exhaustion settling deep in his bones and in his soul. But he can’t sleep. Not yet. Not until Magnus is home.

Fresh sheets crease as Alec sits on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to shut his eyes and regain his equilibrium. When the steadiness returns to him, he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees as he starts massaging at his temples, working his way inward to the center of his forehead. The pressure seems to help keep the throbbing at bay, but it’s only temporary. And Alec isn’t sure he minds that. The heavy pounding is a better type of pain to endure than the tightness in his chest that makes it hard to breathe and the knots in his stomach that have been tying themselves into more knots since he walked out on breakfast earlier. He knows he could use a healing rune to alleviate the pain more quickly, but he won’t. In some way, he’s positive he deserves every second of this self-inflicted agony.

“Alexander.”

The sound is barely more than a whisper as it jolts Alec out of his thoughts, and just by the tone Alec can tell that Magnus hadn’t expected him to come back tonight. If Alec is being honest with himself, he didn’t expect himself to be here, either. But as he looks up with weary eyes, the sight of Magnus in his trademark slim fit pants and black jacket is enough for Alec to know he’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Alec opens his mouth to speak, but his throat is scratchy and dry. He swallows hard before making a second attempt and his voice is rough as he finally asks, “Can we talk?”

There’s a part of Alec that can’t believe it’s been a mere nine days since he first asked Magnus that same question. And just as he did that night nine days ago, Magnus’ shoulders drop as he inhales, nodding as he answers simply, “Yeah.”

The bed dips as Magnus sits beside Alec, but neither of them says a word. Not yet. The silence moves around them, thick and soul-crushingly heavy.

Finally, Magnus sighs.

“How did it end up like this?”

Magnus doesn’t have to specify what, exactly, _this_ is. Alec knows it’s a collective _this_. How did they end up making this about two different issues? How did they end up saying things to each other they didn’t mean? How did they let themselves fall so deeply and their relationship get this far without ever talking in depth about their mortality and immortality and what that might mean?

“I don’t know.” Alec runs his fingers through his hair and closes his eyes, the pounding in his head somehow growing more intense even as the alcohol’s effects dull further. When he finally opens his eyes again, Alec studies Magnus, takes in the hunch of his shoulders, the down turned lines of his face that appear more hollow in the light of the moon through the bedroom window. It’s a vulnerability few have ever seen.

Alec inhales sharply. “Are we so different that this just cannot work?”

_Ask me no questions, and I’ll tell you no lies_ , Alec thinks, stomach working itself into knots again, as though he’s free falling off a cliff, while waiting for Magnus’ response. He knows he’s already asked this question once before on the night of their first date, he said as much to Underhill, but it’s a question Alec needs a concrete answer to.

“Everyone is different, Alexander, and every relationship has its differences. We just have some more… _unique_ differences in ours. That does’t mean this is impossible.”

“Then what is bothering you?” Alec asks gently, diving deeper into the heart of the matter, because he doesn’t know how to be anything other than direct. Magnus is starting to formulate an answer, but Alec stops him. “And don’t say my inexperience. We both agreed at the start of all this that our experience, or lack thereof, didn’t matter.”

There’s a moment of pause as Magnus’ jaw flexes, the way Alec knows it does when the truth is almost too much for Magnus to give voice to. Magnus drops his eyes to his hands and draws his thumb along the line of his finger as the silence settles heavily between them again.

“Because no matter how much I don’t want to think about you being gone, I know you can’t stay.” Magnus clears his throat to keep his voice from breaking, still not looking Alec in the eye. “And no matter how many years we have together, be it fifty, or sixty, or even seventy, it still won’t be enough. I will never be ready to spend the rest of my forever without you, and no matter how many mementos of yours I keep, I will always wish you were still here beside me.”

Where Alec has never stopped to think about the future, Magnus has thought about it far more than he’s wanted to, and suddenly Alec can’t breathe, the painful obviousness of their shared fear knocking the wind out of him like a punch to the gut.

Alec can’t stand the idea of leaving Magnus to bear the burden of loneliness.

Magnus can’t bear the thought of being left behind once more.

Both fear the day this love they share will be reduced to nothing more than mementos in a box, hoping those mementos help to keep a memory alive.

As Alec finally regains his breath, wanting to say something to fill the silence, Magnus continues.

“I suppose I’ve been trying to slow everything down, to savor every moment we have together, in the hope of stopping time itself.” Magnus reaches over to take Alec’s hand, and the familiarity and warmth of Magnus’ fingers intertwining with his is the first thing that has felt right to Alec all day. “The thing is, Alexander, I have watched mortals and immortals alike living as though tomorrow is a promise, but it isn’t guaranteed to any of us.”

Alec’s shoulders slump forward slowly. He knows Shadowhunters risk their own deaths each time they go out on mission, but has he truly been naive enough to forget so soon after Valentine’s atrocities that seelies, warlocks, and vampires can be killed at the hands of others? Silently, he closes his eyes, mentally chastising himself for letting that consideration not even pass through his thoughts. Alec tightens his hold on Magnus’ hand—a voluntary reflex that has become as involuntary as the beating of his own heart—and sighs heavily, letting the weight of it settle around them.

Alec stands then and begins walking away, holding on to Magnus’ hand until he can’t any longer, feeling Magnus’ eyes at his back as he leaves the bedroom. He pads, barefoot, out to the bookcase and bends down to look at the lower shelves. He retrieves the mahogany box, holding it in his hands as he starts back to the bedroom as though it’s rare and precious and fragile. And he supposes to Magnus, the box and its contents are all of those things because each trinket inside is connected to a life that was rare and precious and fragile.

Sitting beside Magnus again, Alec holds the box in his lap for a moment, taking in the simple but elegant design of it and trailing his fingertip along the top edge. Carefully, he passes the box to Magnus and shifts to sit completely on the bed, back against the pillows and legs crossed under him.

“Tell me about them.” Alec murmurs.

“Alexander…” Magnus looks at him, uncertain.

He can see in Magnus’ eyes that he doesn’t want to continue fighting about this. It’s not what Alec wants either.

“Please.”

Magnus looks at Alec, seemingly studying him, searching for any sign of discomfort or insecurity. And seeing none—because Alec has never been insecure about Magnus’ past—nods as he inhales deeply and opens the box.  
One by one, Magnus takes out each trinket—a photograph, a handkerchief, a brooch, a feather from a hat, a quill and ink pot, just to name a few. Alec can tell by the way Magnus’ forehead creases when his memory is failing him and all he has to associate with the object is a name and a brief recollection of how Magnus came to know them. Alec learns of George, Etta, Axel, and Imasu. And though Camille is still alive, Magnus opens up about the tumultuous push and pull of their relationship as he takes an emerald necklace from the box.

“And the quill and ink pot?” Alec asks. It’s the one set of objects Magnus hasn’t told him of yet.

“Ragnor Fell’s.” Magnus answers with a roll of his eyes and a smirk.

The reactions seem contradictory to Alec at first before his jaw goes slack. “You and Ragnor Fell….were…lovers?”

Magnus’ laugh comes easily from deep in his belly, and it’s the first real laugh Alec has heard in days. He never wants it to stop, wants to embed the sound of it in his memory to play on repeat.

“Absolutely not,” Magnus scoffs. “Ragnor was one of my longest, dearest friends.”

Darkness crosses over Magnus’ face, lingering, and Alec knows Ragnor’s loss is still fresh in Magnus’ memory. Alec remembers whispers about Ragnor’s death, but had been too preoccupied with entertaining high ranking Clave officials and finalizing details with Isabelle ahead of his wedding to Lydia to have focused much of his time on it.

He lowers his head, breathes out slowly, and reaches across to take Magnus’ hand into his own. There’s more he feels he should do, but something deep inside tells Alec this is all Magnus needs, at least right now.

Magnus tightens his grip on Alec’s hand and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. It’s what Alec has learned Magnus does when he’s trying to lock his painful memories back into the recesses of his mind.

“When you’ve seen as much death and dying as I have in my life, you eventually just stop mourning your losses and accept their finality.” Magnus’ voice crackles as he speaks. He clears his throat and shakes his head, raising his eyes to meet Alec’s. “This is our reality, Alexander. I am not meant to go where you one day will, and you aren’t meant to spend an eternity with me.”

The weight of Magnus’ words sinks deep in Alec’s thoughts, knowing there can be no true overcoming of this one obstacle. There will always be one journey Alec will take where Magnus can’t accompany him, and though it’s a heavy realization, Alec knows he wouldn’t love Magnus as fiercely as he does if Magnus were any different than he is.

Alec reaches for Magnus’ other hand, grasping it tight as he leans forward to press his forehead against Magnus’. He closes his eyes, breathes Magnus in, sandalwood aroma clearing the fuzz of the alcohol from his brain. “I know I said things I shouldn’t have said.”

“As did I, Alexander.”

“I can’t promise I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Nor can I.”

A smile tugs at Alec’s mouth. “I really am not going anywhere.”

“Then I suppose we’ll just have to make the most of our time together.”

And as Magnus’ lips brush lightly over his own, Alec knows they will.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr and twitter @ magicandarchery


End file.
